


Money Shot

by VastDerp



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crack Pairing, Finance, Other, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDerp/pseuds/VastDerp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>oh john egbert oh</p>
            </blockquote>





	Money Shot

At first I can't be sure what it is, this thing between us. It's different from the other times, with other shy young boy skylarks. I've never felt shy about anyone the way I do with him. When he shakes my body, parts of me I did not know had feelings begin to clench in anticipation. I feel them rattling inside, the first of his delicious intrusions.

We've only just met, but I know I want him to fill me until I'm warm and heavy and there's nothing left but a quivering shell around _him_. God, I want him inside me. I want it more than anything.

It takes an hour to figure out that I'm in love. And that's it, my first time has finally come. If I had skin it would be electric with anticipation. Sheened with sweat. He is going to use me, never knowing, and I am going to die from the pleasure of it. I want to die like that, I think. For him.

Those quick little glances when he's thinking about fraymotifs are like torture. I want to tell him, _no, don't take them out. It feels so good having them inside me._ And somehow he doesn't.

I love him.

If I had nerves, every one would be a live spark for his touch. And then--am I imagining it? Am I going crazy?--his hand lingers when he touches me, just a moment too long. He's bent over so that I can't see his face, but his fingers are warm. Warm and strong and oh god, they're stroking me from the inside. His need is frantic. What does he want to buy? He only takes a little and I shudder. I don't think he even knows the effect he's having on me, but I hate him as much as I love him. As much as I want and need him. Oh, to just be held by this rising hero, to be cherished. In my dreams, he and I will climb the ladder together and when we reach the top I'll feel... something. Something amazing. I ache for the unknown release, and he just looks at me, and I die and burn and am reborn in those round blue eyes.

I wish I could speak to him. Just to tell him what he's become to me in only these short hours. He fills me again and again and leaves me wanting to moan in his hands.

The first time he puts in more than I can take, I shudder. I want to cover it but I don't have hands. There is a colorful cascade of metal and suddenly I feel this sensation of complete fullness. They are spilling out of me. My shame is intense and somehow adds to the delicious pleasure of being unable to take one more bit.

 _Do you see what you've made me into,_ I wonder. _Do you know what you've done to my heart?_

_So stupid. I know he doesn't feel that way for me. How can he? We are of two different worlds, my god of ultimate mangrit and I. But I'm so full--_

_  
_I want to hit him and kiss him and be his forever and I can't hold any more and oh god the pleasure and I feel him I want him I I I feel him he is shaking me and what is this sensation oh my god stop don't stop ohhhhhh_ _   


_\--and then suddenly the pressure is gone. I know this must be it. The thing I've been waiting for all this time. The peak. The world holds its breath._

_A shadow over my face. It's not him. It's... some kind of block. The colors are familiar but the shape is wrong. It's too big. I can't take the whole thing. I try to communicate my panic but he doesn't hear it, this angel who's got me all torn up and full of lust and passion and hunger for what I now accept that only he can give me. He can't hear me because he is shouting his own joy, and doing a little dance.  
 _My love_ , I cry in my silent devotion, _my love....__

And it comes down. Huge and solid and brutal and _so right_ and I feel myself bursting into a thousand splinters of pure ecstacy as the enormity of my purpose is finally revealed, and understood, and celebrated. Fragments everywhere. I give one final shriek into the sky full of fireflies and black clouds and nothing hears me, but when I break, I am smiling.

And that's just the first boonbuck. Once I am glued together, he will do this to me again. And again. And I will never stop wanting it. Wanting him. I am his and every crack on my ceramic skin is a hymn to the joy that he has shown me tonight. My love. My master. My hero. His name is John and he has made me his whore, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

_Oh yessssss._


End file.
